


[s] Dirk: RIDE

by hydromeow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Horses, hors, postgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 17:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6965791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydromeow/pseuds/hydromeow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk is given the opportunity by a generous carapace to ride a mighty hoofbeast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	[s] Dirk: RIDE

**Author's Note:**

  * For [requiescatinpace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/requiescatinpace/gifts).



> Edit: Thanks a ton to elendraug for betaing! I am not experienced in the ways of horse

So, turns out this planet isn’t only populated by carapaces and the hodgepodge mix of trolls and humans that won the game. Which is good, because it means that the mostly carnivorous (Dirk’s _pretty sure_ ; he’s never seen Karkat look at a salad with much more than disdain, so) trolls haven’t had to resort to homicide for their protein fix.

 

It’s also good, because horses. Those exist. Not only do they exist, but they’re fucking numerous as shit. Dirk spent a while exploring the planet a couple weeks back and god _damn_ there are herds like a motherfucker. Some of the carapace people have domesticated horses, too.

 

Dirk can ride domesticated horses. He’s way more excited than he’d ever admit to be in a stable that smells like hay and sounds like nickering with a real, live, life-sized horse in front of him.

 

Actually, in fact, this horse might be larger than life. The carapace letting him ride was overjoyed to show him the ‘finest’ horse of the bunch. She’s a Clydesdale, and in honor of Dirk, they’ve named her Mountain Dew: Livewire. Or just Livewire, for short. She’s bay with white feet, and her nose is just about the softest thing Dirk’s ever put his hand on. Holy shit.

 

He... can’t actually see over Livewire’s back, though, and he has to wait for her to bend her neck down (gracious as fuck) so he can pet her nose. It pains him to admit it, but riding Mountain Dew: Livewire is, in all honesty, kind of intimidating. The carapace is standing on a stepping stool to saddle her up, though, and like hell is Dirk going to turn down an opportunity to ride a horse. The smaller horses further down the stable are more inviting, but he figures it’d probably be an insult to refuse to ride their finest draft horse. Farming is a big fucking deal to carapacians.

 

Not that he’s too embarrassed to ask for a less challenging horse. No.

 

The carapace finishes saddling up Livewire, and all the while the mare watches Dirk patiently. Her eyelashes are long as shit, and Dirk likes to imagine she’s batting them at him. Perhaps she’s even fluttering them shyly.

 

The carapace steps down and they gesture for Dirk to climb aboard. He clears his throat.

 

“As much as I’d like to just hop on, she’s a very long horse. I am a substantially less long Dirk.”

 

The carapace’s shoulders shake in a way he’s fairly certain means they’re laughing, and they  lightly smack themselves on the forehead before moving aside and gesturing for Dirk to climb up on the stool. Fuck yeah. _Where doin this man. Where makin it hapen._

 

He climbs up on the stool and pets Livewire’s side. He can feel her musculature underneath, all that power. Horses are fucking majestic, god damn.

 

Okay. Okay, here we go.

 

“Okay, girl, I’m just gonna get into this saddle and then we can ride into the sunset like the beautiful cliché I was always destined to be. Insert disgustingly sexual reference to riding here. Just kidding, I wouldn’t say something filthy around you. Ha ha.”

 

Dirk’s pretty sure the carapace is rolling their eyes at him.

 

Slowly, he swings one leg over Livewire’s back, and almost pulls a muscle doing so. Not only is she a very long horse, she’s wide as fuck. Definitely an animal designed for harder work than carrying his noodly ass around. He swings the other leg up just as carefully, and looks up.

 

He’s on backwards. Dirk doesn’t need to look to know the carapace is probably doing their silent-laugh thing at him.

 

Firmly gripping the saddle, Dirk takes his time orienting himself properly. Livewire seems content to stand there and wait while he fucks around like a moron on her back. The carapace is petting her shoulder (as high up as they can reach) soothingly, too, so that probably helps.

 

Once he’s on, the carapace climbs back onto the stool and gently adjusts Dirk’s legs so that they’re resting along the curve of Livewire’s torso, feet in her stirrups, instead of sticking out. Then, they take the lead in their hand and slowly lead Livewire out of the barn.

 

She has a high step, and Dirk finds himself struggling to adjust to the movement; for a moment, he almost falls off, and ends up reflexively gripping her mane instead of the reins. The carapace brings Livewire to a stop and waits for him to adjust himself. Livewire nickers.

 

“Okay, let’s go again, my ass is firmly planted in this saddle.” The carapace smiles and nods, starting to walk again. Livewire is so _alive_ (hah, alive) beneath him, it’s fucking crazy. He can feel her breathing and the way her muscles move against his legs.

 

Dirk doesn’t actually do much riding; the carapace leads him slowly around a field clearly kept with this in mind, and even though it can’t take more than fifteen minutes at most he’s surprised at how much effort it takes him to stay upright. In fact, fuck being upright. He is _riding a goddamn horse_ and he’s going to appreciate this to its fullest.

 

He leans forward excruciatingly slowly -- he doesn’t want to fall off -- until his head is resting against Livewire’s neck. She smells like, uh. She smells like horse. It’s nice. Her mane is a little coarser than Dirk expected, but it’s not unpleasant. He closes his eyes and relaxes as much as you can on a horse, breathing deeply.

 

The carapace looks up and smiles when they spot Dirk bonding with the horse, and if they take her around the field a couple times more than planned, they’ll never admit it. Mountain Dew: Livewire hasn’t even broken a sweat.

 

The carapace helps him dismount and signs that they’ll be happy to offer him more lessons should he want to. Dirk wants to.

 

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer sometime. Thank you, dude.”

 

His ass is kind of sore, though.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was one part a gift, one part an exercise in writing quick pieces, so don't expect more of this any time soon, if ever.  
> Dirk and the carapace totally become moirails, though.


End file.
